


Wednesday, 16:00

by Sgt_Pepperony94



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Mental Health Issues, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9893546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sgt_Pepperony94/pseuds/Sgt_Pepperony94
Summary: Wanda Maximoff is not a fan of being forced to talk. However, she has to open up at some point. It is just a question of who. T for mental health depictions.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Enormous Task of Giving a Shit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631965) by [bisexualamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualamy/pseuds/bisexualamy). 



> Title: Wednesday, 16:00  
> Author: Sgt. Pepperony  
> Fandom: Avengers (MCU)  
> Rating: T  
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, characters. Property of Marvel and Disney. Trigger warnings for mental health depictions (PTSD mentions, depression, and anxiety) and mentions of suicidal thoughts.
> 
> This story is inspired by a story by bisexualamy where Tony goes to therapy. Please read it, it’s good. You can find it in my bookmarks on AO3. I thought I could do a lot of exploration of Wanda and Pietro’s past by using this method, and because Wanda has had a lot of shit to handle.

_Session One_

Wanda Maximoff had always been a guarded woman. She had to be. Showing the first sign of weakness on the streets and in the HYDRA cell would mean she could be easily picked off. She was even guarded in the presence of this new-found ‘family.' It was not as though she had no effort to make amends or even friends, but she was not telling them what she was really feeling. When asked by Steve or Natasha, she would always respond that she was okay. They knew she was lying.

Since the Battle of Sokovia, she had spent every night suffering with nightmares and sobbing. There was no way she could be fine after Pietro’s death. There was no way she could be fine with one-half of herself being ripped away. So in the end, Natasha told Wanda she had booked a month’s worth of therapy sessions for Wanda. Wanda had scowled. It was as though she was being treated like a child, but even Steve agreed that with all the things she had suffered in her life so far, therapy seemed better than nothing.

So there she was, sitting on a soft grey sofa, staring at her fingernails rather than the middle age woman that was sitting in the leather desk chair opposite her. She had a thin face and sympathetic brown eyes behind glasses, with her weave tied back. She also was not dressed in what Wanda expected: t-shirt and jeans. Wanda had been expecting an old white man in a suit.

“Just so we’re clear, I am not here out of my volition,” Wanda said plainly. She still did not look up at the therapist. “Natasha, she said I had to come.”

“Who is Natasha?”

“She’s…” Wanda did not know exactly how to describe Natasha to the woman. It was not as though the women were not on civil terms, but since they were both guarded women, it would be difficult to call one another friends. Eventually, Wanda just gave in and replied, “She’s my friend.”

“She must be a good friend to be concerned about you.”

“I guess you could say that.” Wanda started to pick at the black nail varnish in a bid to distract herself. “So, do you still get paid even if we make idle chit-chat?”

“Well, I am being paid for this session and the next four. I just want you to know that I am not here to be your enemy, Wanda. You can talk to me in your own time, or you can sit in silence. It’s up to you. I’m just here to help you work out your thoughts and feelings.”

“I’m fine honestly.”

“So why does your friend tell me you wake up in the night screaming?”

Wanda finally makes eye contact. “I thought you were not going to push me.”

“I thought it would be a good starting point.”

“You thought wrong.”

-o-

_Session Four_

Wanda looked at the clock on the wall, watching as the second-hand ground slowly towards the hour. She knew that she had the ability to move the hand closer to the twelve, but the therapist was smart enough to notice if her watch did not match the clock. 

So far the sessions had involved mostly silence, with the odd dashes of small talk. The woman seemed just as determined as Wanda was to see who would break first. Wanda had been tempted to hear what the therapist was thinking, yet a large part of her did not want to hear her thoughts. She had learned the hard way that messing with peoples’ minds had consequences. 

“I have a few questions for you Wanda,” the woman stated, finally breaking the silence. Wanda looked at the woman and nodded. “What is your favourite virtue?” 

Wanda looked confused at the question. She had expected the woman to ask about the nightmares that had been plaguing Wanda as she had done during the previous sessions. Wanda bit her lip before coming up with an answer, “Kindness.” 

“What vice do you most despise?” 

“Bigotry.” 

“What would you be more willing to forgive?” 

“Laziness, I guess.” 

“What virtue do you like in a man?” 

Wanda snorted, “Morals.” 

“What would make you most happy?” 

Wanda smiled then sighed, “A happy family.” 

“Any particular reason?” 

There it was, the leading question. Wanda shook her head, but eventually answered, “It’s not that I didn’t have an unhappy childhood before I was ten. My parents, they weren’t well off, but they always made sure there was food on the table, and my brother and I were always looked after. My youth, however…” Wanda stopped as she realised she was talking way more than she felt comfortable. “You know that this is my last session, and I doubt we have the time to discuss everything.”

“It’s your choice, Wanda. I felt as though you were opening up just then.”

“What good could that have done?”

-o-

_Session Seven_

“I had the dream again,” Wanda stated. “The one where I am in the middle of Novi Grad, and I see a little girl step on a landmine.”

“What did the little girl look like?”

“About nine or ten, dark hair, was wearing a black dress. It was the same dress I was wearing when my home was destroyed.”

“Wanda, do you believe you were watching yourself die?”

“You don’t know what it was like being in that building as it came down. You don’t know what it was like being trapped with a bomb, waiting for it to kill you, hoping that you did not make the wrong move that would set it off.”

“So tell me.”

“Time stands still. I could not breathe because of the smoke and the pain in my leg from having shrapnel caught, and I was just staring at the unexploded bomb. I just about could read out the name on the bomb: Stark Industries.”

“You live in the Avengers Tower now, a building that was built by Stark Industries. How does that feel?”

“Strange. I don’t know if I have entirely forgiven Tony for what happened, but I now know it was not him who sold the bombs. He still designed the missile, but he did not push the button. We’re not friends. At best he is a landlord; only I don’t have to pay him rent.”

“Do you still hate him?”

“No. I think I learned my lesson about hate.”

“And what lesson would that be?”

“That hate often brings more destruction than fixes it.”

“And do you have experience in that?”

“My brother is dead and my home country is destroyed. What do you think?”

“Fair point. Which experience do you think was worst for you: the death of your parents or the death of your brother?”

Wanda stared blankly before asking, “You mean you are asking me to choose between seeing my parents being blown to pieces and then being trapped with a live explosive, or the feeling of having half of myself being ripped out of my body?”

“I suppose that seems to be a strange question.”

“A strange question would be ‘would you choose to eat a live mouse or a tarantula.' What you asked me was the impossible.”

-o-

_Session Nine_

“Do you ever think about your own death?” the therapist asked.

“There is always that what if. What if the bomb had exploded? What if I had died of exposure during the worst winter Sokovia ever had? What if it had been me that had died in Sokovia instead of Pietro?” Wanda answered.

“Have you ever contemplated ending your life?” Wanda went silent. She leans back in the sofa and then started staring at the clock. It was only five minutes past the hour. “I gather that your silence means that you have.”

Wanda sighed. “I might have. Just for a split second. I had injured my leg in Sokovia and had been given painkillers. One night, I just looked at the bottle, poured out the pills into my hand and just thought about swallowing them all. I snapped out of it before I could even move them towards my mouth.”

“I take it this was just after your brother died.”

“Yes. I never told anyone. I thought they would institutionalise me.”

“We don’t section people for having one suicidal thought.”

“What about five?”

“You’ve had some since?”

“It just comes sometimes. I hold a sharp knife and think about slitting my wrists. I look at a belt and think of finding a way of choking myself to death. Sometimes I think about walking into the middle of the road when a car is approaching. I look at the water and think should I dive in. I stand on the balcony of the Tower and wonder if I should jump. Does that qualify me to be sectioned?”

“It does raise alarm bells. Have you ever harmed yourself intentionally?”

“Thought about it.”

“At the moment, I think you are not a harm to yourself. You think about it, but you stop at the last second. However, you do still have the thoughts. Just because you have not done it now does not mean you won’t in the future.”

“You saying that I am a suicide risk?”

“Potential suicide risk.”

“Great. I’ll tell Tony to buy CCTV cameras.”

-o-

_Session Ten_

The therapist formally diagnosed Wanda with post-traumatic stress, depression, and anxiety. She did feel a sense of relief, yet there was a part of her that was frustrated that it could potentially prevent her from moving forward.

In the end, she did understand Steve’s concern about her becoming an Avenger. He wanted to see if her mood stabilised before making a final judgement. She was at least prescribed sedatives and anti-depressants. She still had to continue her sessions as part of her treatment, yet unlike ten weeks, she did not protest.

-o-

_Session Twelve_

“Tell me about your mother. What was she like?” the therapist asked.

“My mother. She was kind. She was protective. She was everything a good mother should be.”

“Father?”

“He adored Pietro and me. I can’t complain.”

“Was there any conflict?”

“Other than tidying my bedroom? Nothing I can remember. My parents were normal. They did not fight. They didn’t cheat on each other; they never drank or smoked. We just functioned like a normal family.”

“Is that why you want a happy family? As a means of recapturing your childhood?”

“You remembered that?”

“I do make notes Wanda.”

Wanda smiles a little, “I can’t recapture it. It was Sokovia. We were in a war zone. A lot of my earliest memories were hiding in secret bunkers. It was the 90s. Just because my family was happy doesn’t mean everything around us was sunshine and rainbows.” Wanda takes a moment to grabs some water and think. “The nightmares did not start with Sokovia. They did not even start with my parents dying. They started when I was five. I saw some people being shot in the street. It was the 90s, and it was Yugoslavia. I think you can fill in the gaps yourself. After that, I spent four months having nightmares, to the point where I was wetting the bed. I still dream of it sometimes. The last time was in the week after Sokovia.”

“Did your parents ever get you help?”

“No. They thought it would just pass on its own. It did, but I never spoke about it to anyone. Not even Pietro. I know Pietro had nightmares. He never talked about it, but I know he had them. I guess it is that macho bullshit where he can’t talk about his feelings in fear of being seen as weak.”

“Did you ever think to ask?”

“No, because it meant I would have had to talk about them.”

“Do you feel any better for talking about your dreams?”

“I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t know how much it is the result of these sessions or the pills.”

“How do the pills make you feel? Better or worse?”

“Not sure. I feel like I sleep better, but I don’t feel happier.”

-o-

_Session Fifteen_

Wanda smiled as she walked into the room, seemingly confident and light on her feet.

“You seem happy today.”

“I haven’t had a nightmare in a week.”

-o-

_Session Eighteen_

“Is that it? Am I cured?” Wanda asked.

“Post-traumatic stress can’t be fully cured. It’s like any mental illness. You can have good days and bad days. It’s just finding methods to ease the symptoms.”

“Ease the symptoms. Well, I would say they were reduced. I haven’t had a nightmare or a panic attack in three weeks. I don’t feel hopeless. I don’t even think about hurting myself.”

“Do you feel like you are ready to leave?”

“I don’t know. I guess I am scared that if I leave, I will go back to the way I was.”

“We can keep having these sessions if you feel comfortable. I am not going to push you out on your own. Though you should know that you are not alone. How is your relationships with the rest of the team?”

“Better. Steve is letting me train. We’re even doing group activities. I like film nights. We have pizza. I didn’t realise how much I like pizza.”

“Have you been able to speak to them about how you are feeling?”

“Yes. That’s an improvement I guess.”

“PTSD and depression are complicated disorders, Wanda.”

“I know.”

“I think talking is helping you, and you seem to have settled into the routine that makes you feel comfortable.”

“Are you saying that the fact that I am coming here every week is helping?”

“I think breaking your routine might make things difficult. Sometimes a routine is needed to help a person feel more stable.”

“I suppose your right. I never really tell you what my week is like do I?”

“You can if you want.”

“Monday: Combat training. Tuesday: Ability practice. Wednesday: Rest day and therapy. Thursday: Combat training again. Friday: Avengers fun day as Sam called it. Hence the pizza.”

“Do you think this routine is helping you focus on other things than traumatic incidents?”

“I suppose. I still had the panic attacks after you diagnosed me, though your street name technique seemed to help. The feeling starts and then I just say the streets.”

“Good. I’m glad that it is helping you.”

-o-

_Session Twenty-One_

“I wish that mission could have gone better. I don’t know why I froze,” Wanda said.

“It was your first mission.”

“I thought I could cope, but I had a feeling something was going to happen.”

“Did anything happen?”

“No. Maybe I just did not think I was ready.”

“Were you nervous before going there?”

“Yes. I should have spoken up sooner. I doubt Steve would have let me go if I did not feel I was ready. I suppose this was a wake-up call.”

“Better to find out now than when you are really needed.”

“I suppose. Having a panic attack in the middle of an alien invasion would be dangerous. I just thought I was ready.”

-o-

_Session Twenty-Five_

“Do you ever get bored of hearing my problems?” Wanda asked.

“No. You do have an interesting life.”

“In other words, my sadness makes you happy.”

“Not happy. Most people I know who suffer from PTSD are not superheroes.”

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. A hero fights for someone selflessly and when they are scared the most.”

“You must have been scared in the Battle of Sokovia.”

“Terrified.”

“And yet you still fought to save your people. That’s your definition of a hero.”

“Yet I failed to protect the thing I was supposed to protect because my brother died.”

“You don’t speak of him much. We’ve been here six months, and you mostly seem to talk about your feelings after his death.”

“He was the person I loved the most. There isn’t really anything I can say about him. I think my reactions to his death said enough don’t you think?”

“I suppose. When you were talking about your suicidal thoughts, it sounded like you were trying to find ways of seeing your brother again.”

“I don’t believe in God if that is what you are implying.”

“Do you believe in anything?”

“I guess I believe that my brother is somewhere. I don’t know where but I sometimes get the feeling that he is watching me.”

“When?”

“The last moments before I go to sleep. I don’t know why I just do.”

“Can you remember his funeral?”

“I hated that day so much. I was exhausted, and I could not stop crying. I know that sounds normal, but when you are burying the only family you had left… It makes it worse. I felt more alone than I did after he died. I had people around me, but I did not really know them that well.”

“Do you feel that you know them better now?”

“Rhodes… I like Rhodes. He is a man who knows his own principals. Vision. He does his own thing. Natasha likes to keep herself to herself, but she’s a lot nicer once she lets her guard down. Sam’s amusing. Steve…. He’s the best leader a person could ask for.” The therapist smiled slightly as she noticed a small blush appear in Wanda’s cheeks at the mention of Steve. “I really like these people, and I am sure they like me. We work well as a team.”

“Have they mentioned the possibility of you going on missions?”

“They don’t write me off. They always ask if I feel ready to go. I was going to say yes when they last asked me, but I felt my anxiety bubble up slightly.”

“Is it as bad as it was a few weeks ago?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think you may be more nervous than anxious. I don’t think we’ll know for sure until you do go on a mission.”

-o-

_Session Twenty-Six_

“You were right. I was just nervous,” Wanda said.

“So the mission went well?”

“Yes. Better than expected.”

For the first time in a long time, Wanda felt that she was going to be okay.

The End


End file.
